


Russian Scrawls

by stellecraft



Series: Scrawls [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Bondlock, Hacker Q, M/M, Overprotective Mycroft, Q is a Holmes, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 05:20:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7744843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellecraft/pseuds/stellecraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James and Alec were eighteen when they discovered they had another soulmate, twenty-eight when they met for the first time, and forty-four when they met their third soulmate.</p>
<p>Q was five when he started to write to his soulmates, twenty when he joined MI6, and thirty-one when he finally met the two men had been dreaming of all his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Russian Scrawls

      James Bond ignored the crawling feeling that meant that writing was appearing on his skin as he studied. The writing was nothing he could probably understand anyway. He held out for five minutes before he yanked up his sleeve and ran his fingers over the word written there as he reached for the Russian-English dictionary he kept on his desk for this reason only. He thumbed through it until he found the proper word and looked up the definition. Залупа. Dickhead. He flipped to the English-Russian part of the dictionary, trailing a finger through until he found the proper word. He reached for the pen he had put aside and scribbled on the back of his hand.

_кто_? Who? The response was almost instantaneous as he flipped back to the Russian part of the dictionary.

_мой мастер_. James frowned. His master? He began to compose his response. He knew the basic grammar rules and hoped he didn’t accidently insult his soulmate but surely the other person meant his father, not his master. Once he had his question about clarification penned out he copied it onto his hand.

_Вы имеете в виду вашего отца_?

_Ваша грамматика сосет. Будет ли английский быть проще_? Your grammar sucks. Would English be easier? James’ translation was slow and by the time he had finished a new message, in shaky English, was tracing itself across his knee. _I do mean my master._

_How am I supposed to learn if you don’t let me? Your English is perfect. Let me learn Russian for once._ A shaky handwriting began to write underneath their own. James’ watched, shocked, as a third handwriting appeared on his knee.

_What’s a dickhead?_ James traced the shaky letters with a finger as the Russian’s response began to scrawl across his palm.

_First how old are you?_ Two thick, dark lines crossed out dickhead, making it unable to be seen. The response was almost instantaneous.

_5_

_Then it’s nothing. Would you like to learn Russian?_ James watched in amusement as his Russian soulmate began to walk through some basic grammar with what appeared to be their other soulmate. A very young soulmate.

 

* * *

 

 

      Alexei Trevelyan liked teaching his soulmates Russian. The now fifteen-year-old had picked it up easily and took to having full conversations with Alexei in it, much to the annoyance of their third. He idly watched the sailor Russia had told him to watch while he was assigned to the man’s SAS squad. How a sailor got involved with an army unit he didn’t know. He watched as the sailor slipped out of his gloves and rubbed the back of his neck. Alexei was drawn closer to him as he spotted Russian on his hands. He hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten until he was pulling off his own gloves to compare the writing. Once he was certain, he turned to the man who was now watching him closely.

      “I need to get away from Russia.”

      “I can help.” James took his elbow and led him towards a tent that most of the men on base called the spook tent. It housed a contingent of CIA operatives as well as MI6 agents. They tried to stop the man at the door but he walked right past him. Alexei followed close behind. When they reached the communication center set up for the spies’ use, the man stopped.

      “Are you sure about this?” Alexei met the man’s eyes and nodded.

      “It was going to happen sooner rather than later.”

      “You won’t be able to communicate with our other soulmate until they’ve cleared you.” Alexei took a deep breath knowing their third’s issue with abandonment, something about two older brothers who both left him when he needed them most, and took a pen out of the other man’s pocket. He scrawled a quick note in Russian letting their third know that he was ok and that he would be gone for a while then handed the pen back.

      “Lead the way.” The man turned and went into the communications center. Alexei followed him as he used his knife to cut the badges that marked him as a Russian soldier and intelligence operative off his uniform. He dropped them in the first trash bin he saw and turned to watch his soulmate talk to someone who seemed very annoyed with him. The man turned to face him as the woman on the screen ranted on.

      “What’s your name?” Alexei thought it over. He could keep the name that the Russian orphanage gave him before he was sold to his master to work as a servant or he could change it. He liked the idea of a new start with a new name.

      “Alec. Alec Trevelyan.”

      “I’m James. James Bond. MI6 agent.”

 

* * *

 

      Sherrinford Holmes was five when he first started writing back to the people who were writing to each other. The Russian one had taken to him very quickly, teaching him his language and responding more frequently than the English one. When he was fifteen he had gotten a quick message in Russian that the Russian one was going to be unable to communicate and hadn’t heard from him for a year. The English one had written more frequently during that year, ensuring that the youngest of the three knew that the Russian was doing fine.

      He was twenty now and could hear Mycroft yelling at the MI6 agents that had come to take him away on espionage charges. He had hacked MI6 once, just once, to get some information for Sherlock that Mycroft wouldn’t give him. He had drawn attention to himself by accident and now MI6 was in Mycroft’s office arguing with him. He idly grabbed the pen that was sitting on the dining room table and began writing a note to the Russian one, ignoring the agent that had been assigned to watch him. He was one of Mycroft’s precious double 0 agents anyway. 006 he believed. The one with the hidden third soulmate.

      Sherrinford looked up from his message as Mycroft strode in looking irate.

      “They want to arrest you.”

      “I know.”

      “And what have I told you about talking to him in Russian.”

      “Not to do it. I’m not spilling state secrets or anything Myc. I just feel bad for him. He defected and I feel like talking to him in his mother tongue. A reminder perhaps.”

      “You are completely certain he defected?”

      “Absolutely. He met the other one and defected five years ago.”

      “Good. Then I might be able to manage a deal. You work for MI6 shoring up their firewalls and information and they, in turn, forgive your hacking.”

      “I’d like to stay on with them after I secure their systems. They have some other flaws that I noticed when I hacked them.”

      “I’ll arrange it.” Mycroft turned towards the double 0 standing near the door. “I put him in your charge. Make sure he’s not starving himself while he works, please. He forgets that he needs to eat to survive.”

      “Should I cuff him, sir?” The double 0 pushed away from the wall and Mycroft shook his head.

      “He’ll go willingly.” Mycroft turned to leave and Sherrinford stood.

      “Myc, don’t tell Sherlock, please. Tell him I got caught doing something else and got exiled or something. Don’t tell him that he got me in trouble.” Mycroft’s face softened and he nodded. He left the room and Sherrinford went up to his room to pack. As he handed the case containing his laptops to the double 0 he caught the look the man was giving him. He made a gesture to encourage the agent to ask his question and turned to pack his clothes.

      “Your soulmate is Russian?”

      “One of them. He found the other one in Afghanistan I think it was. When soulmate number one found soulmate number two he defected to be with him. I was fifteen at the time. It seemed like a wonderfully romantic gesture until we couldn’t talk for a year while he was being vetted by whatever intelligence agency soulmate number two works for.”

      “You still speak Russian with him?”

      “He taught me the language when I was five. The other one hates it because he can’t understand half of what I say. I’m also fluent in Gaelic since soulmate number two is from Scotland. He swore in it up until I let him know in Gaelic that I understood him perfectly.”

      “You speak two languages besides your own?”

      “I have a rudimentary knowledge of French, Spanish, and Italian. I’m fluent in Arabic and can read Cantonese and Mandurian. I’m planning on learning Korean next.” Sherrinford finished packing up his clothes and handed the double 0 the duffle. He tried to take back his computers but the man refused to give it up.

      “These are to be confiscated until we’re certain there’s nothing nasty on them.”

 

* * *

 

 

      In the eleven years since Sherrinford had joined MI6 he had made various weapons, sabotaged networks around the world, and been promoted to R. In the eleven years his communications with his soulmates had dwindled. He had taken to spending all his free time around the office, 006 his ever watchful guardian probably by orders of Mycroft. R had once told the other man that it was unnecessary for him to follow him around and give him food on long nights when he was in town but 006 had insisted. Just like he had insisted that R go home the morning of the explosion and sleep off the forty-hour mission gone terribly awry. He had awoken groggily to a phone call and his security alarms going off as 006 tried to force his way into the apartment. He had answered the phone and disabled the security system from his bed. 006 had found him there as he hopped around with the phone pressed to his ear trying to get dressed. The other man had pulled the phone away from the now Q and put it on speaker phone. He was even shadowing the new Q as the man made his way through the National Gallery to meet with 007.

      Q spotted 007 exactly where he was supposed to be, on the bench in front of The Fighting Temeraire. Q approached him and settled on the bench next to him.

      “It always makes me feel a bit melancholy. A grand old warship being ignominiously being hauled off for scrap. The inevitability of time, don’t you think? What do you see?” He tried not to let his anger at the man next to him enter his voice. The man had fucked off for six months after getting shot, probably fucking everything that moved and left 006 alone thinking that 007 had died. Q himself knew how that felt. His Russian soulmate had written to him around the same time 007 died to tell him that the English soulmate had died. It was only two days previously that the writing had appeared on his skin from his English soulmate letting them know that he was alive.

      “A bloody big ship.” 007 started to get up to leave. “Excuse me.”

      “007…” Q enjoyed watching the man’s surprise, “I’m your new quartermaster.”

      “You must be joking,”

      “Why, because I’m not wearing a lab coat?”

      “Because you still have spots.” Q gritted his teeth. He had adult onset acne and there was nothing he could do about it short of having layers of his skin lasered off but he didn’t like it being pointed out to him.

      “My complexion is hardly relevant.”

      “Well, your competence is.”

      “Age is no guarantee of efficiency.”

      “And youth is no guarantee of innovation.”

      “I hazard I can do more damage on my laptop sitting in my pajamas before my first cup of Earl Grey than you can do in a year in the field.”

      “Oh, so why do you need me?”

      “Every now and then a trigger needs to be pulled.”

      “Or not pulled. It’s hard to know which in your pajamas.” Q turned to look at 007. “Q.”

      “007.” He pulled the packet of papers out of his jacket. “Ticket to Shanghai. Documentation and passport.”

      “Thank you.”

      “And this.” Q held out the case he had brought with him. 007 opened it and Q kept talking. “Walther PPK/S 9mm short. There’s a micro-dermal sensor in the grip. It’s been coded to your palm print so only you can fire it. Less of a random killing machine and more of a personal statement.”

      “And this?” 007 pointed to the empty spot in the case. He watched Q pull the small thing out of his pocket.

      “Standard issue radio transmitter. Activate it and it broadcasts your location. Distress signal. And that’s it.”

      “Gun and a radio.” 007 closed the case. “Not exactly Christmas, is it?”

      “Were you expecting an exploding pen? We don’t really go in for that anymore. Besides, I keep those toys for agents who don’t up and leave their soulmates because they feel like it.” Q stood and began to head towards 006. He turned at the last moment. “Good luck out there in the field. And please return the equipment in one piece.” He turned again pulling a pen out of his pocket.

      “Brave new world.” He heard 007’s words as he left but ignored them in favor or writing one word on his hand. Залупа. Dickhead.

 

* * *

 

 

      James watched the quartermaster leave, spotting the word the man had written on his hand. It was the same word that now adorned his hand in the same spot. He looked down then caught Alec’s eye tapping his hand. Alec’s eyes widened and he reached out to grab Q’s hand. He pulled it into his view and examined it, comparing the handwriting to the word on his hand. James got up, brushing passed them, making sure that Залупа was displayed on his hand in such a way that only Q and Alec could see it. The young man they had started communicating with when they were eighteen and he was five had really grown into his intelligence. James was proud of him. He pulled a pen out of his pocket as he waited for his cab to arrive. His brain skimmed through all of the Russian Alec had taught him and he settled on the perfect message.

_Я приду домой в целости моей любви._ I’ll come home safe my loves.

 

* * *

 

 

      Q was ridiculously happy as he settled into the large bathtub in Alec and James’ bathroom. The jets were heaven on his back. He had been hunched over his laptop for two days straight as he helped first Alec then James navigate through their missions. They were due home soon and Q had left MI6 to relax a bit before they showed up and prepare. He closed his eyes for what felt like a minute and dozed until he felt someone climbing into the bathtub with him. His eyes shot open and he struggled slightly until he recognized the writing on the hand on his hip.

      “Alec. You’re home.” Q relaxed into Alec’s arms and let the older man wash him as he dozed again. He woke up again when a second set of arms lifted him out of the bathtub and smiled at James.

      “Hello, love.”

      “I was planning an entire thing involving me greeting Alec naked and prepared and having you walk in on us but the bath felt so good.” He felt rather than heard James’ chuckle.

      “How much sleep did you get?” Q was settled onto the bed face down and two sets of strong hands began to work the knots out of his body. Q moaned slightly and promptly forgot the question. “Q how much sleep did you get?”

      “R made me take naps. Ow, fuck.” Alec had found a knot in his neck and was rubbing at it.

      “Deep breath love.” Q breathed in and the pressure increased slightly before he felt the knot release. Alec rubbed over it for a minute before he moved to the next knot. Q swore again, this time in Russian.

      “You two are deceptively good at this.” Q felt the tension in his body slowly melting away. He didn’t even jump when James’ slick fingers pressed against his entrance. It briefly crossed him mind to let his soulmates know that he had never had sex before but the thought flew out of his head when James slid one finger in and began pumping it slowly. Q arched into the finger and James chuckled. Alec rested his hands on Q’s hips, holding him down. James added another finger and angled them slightly to brush along Q’s prostate. Q moaned into the pillow by his head and Alec reached out to run his fingers through Q’s curls.

      “The one thing I love about James is his uncanny ability to find someone’s prostate.” Alec let go of Q’s hips and settled up by his head. Q immediately shifted up onto his elbows and took Alec into his mouth. He hummed as Alec swore in Russian.

      “Oh fuck. James, he has no gag reflex.” Q watched Alec as he tried multiple different things he had read about. H could tell which things Alec enjoyed the most from his facial expressions and he focused on those. Alec wrapped his fingers in Q’s hair and tugged him off. He pulled Q up for a kiss and Q tried to pull away, to go back to making Alec moan, until a strong arm wrapped around his waist. A hand guided James’ dick to press against his entrance. Q pulled away from the kiss to rest his head against Alec's shoulder as James pushed in. Alec pressed a kiss to his head.

      When James started moving Q felt him drag across his prostate. He moaned and Alec grinned, wrapping an arm around Q’s waist, holding him close and wrapping a hand around both of their dicks. Q noticed that Alec had put on a condom and opened his mouth to ask about it. All that came out was a moan of James’ name and Alec grinned. Q rested his head on Alec’s shoulder and let the moans, swearing, and little noises he made out. When James changed his angle to press directly on Q’s prostate as he thrust Q let out a much louder moan of James’ name and came into Alec’s hand. James pulled out, changed his condom, and slid into Alec. It only took them a few minutes for the two of them to cum. James curled up next to Q as Alec grabbed a cloth to clean Q up. Q laughed slightly as Alec cleaned the cum off his stomach and cleaned excess lube from his ass then chucked the cloth into a corner. Alec pulled Q into his arms, taking him from James. James grumbled and moved closer, slotting his body against Q’s back.

      “So did we blow your previous sexual encounters out of the water?” Alec pressed a kiss to Q’s sweaty curls.

      “No, because I’ve never had previous sexual encounters.” Q felt the other two still and turned to look at James.

      “Never?” James’ voice was soft.

      “Why would I? I had soulmates who know I existed and were looking for me. Besides, I was twenty when MI6 recruited me. It’s dangerous to get involved with a civilian.”

      “None of the other double 0’s ever approached you to blow off steam?”

      “I turned them down. 004 accused me of being a prude.” He gripped Alec’s wrist as the man moved to grab his Yarygin Pistol that Q most certainly hadn’t issued him. “I told him I wanted to experience the whirlwind that was 007 and 006 before anything else. He then called me a kinky bastard.” He gripped Alec’s wrist tighter and pulled him in for a kiss. Alec let himself be drawn in.

 

* * *

 

 

      004 approached Q with a leer at the man’s ass. Q was wonderful. 004 was convinced that he would be great in bed given half a chance.

      “I hear you got a chance to experience 006 and 007. Feel up to giving us lesser folk a try now?” The gun Q pulled on him and pressed against his dick was an MSS "Vul". He had seen the exact same gun in Alec’s back up holster the day before when the man come back from his mission. Why was Q carrying Alec’s back up weapon? A hand settled on 004’s neck as writing began to scrawl across Q’s forehead. 004 winced as _Property of 006 and 007_ appeared. He pulled free of the hand on his neck to turn and face James.

      “If you touch him...”

      “I know. I’m dead. If you two hurt him, you know you’ll have the rest of us to deal with right?”

      “We don’t plan to hurt him.” Alec’s face was set in a pissed off expression. 004 grinned.

      “When does anybody plan to hurt their soulmate?” He sauntered out as he heard the explosion of sound that was Q branch all yelling at Alec and James. As he entered the elevator he nodded to the man in the umbrella.

      “I suppose you went easy on them?” Mycroft watched his secretary/bodyguard’s brother expectantly. The man shrugged.

      “They know I meant it when I told them that I’d sic the entire double 0 contingent on them if something happened to him. I’ll keep an eye on him for you.” They both watched as the security camera in the elevator moved to point at them. Mycroft waved to it, knowing Q was controlling it, as they arrived at the executive floor. 004 went to flirt with Eve while Mycroft entered M’s office. He had to discuss security for his youngest brother now that he was sleeping with two double 0’s.


End file.
